BUTTERFLY SHOES
by Chick Feed
Summary: He had been looking for company for a night, but he found so much more when he saw the girl with butterflies on her shoes. Written so the reader pictures for themselves which brother's memories this short fic is about.Rated "T" for some mature content. One of the brothers finds something he didn't expect. Will history let them be, or will it haunt him? Love you to R & R! Chick xx
Spoilers : None
Disclaimer : I don't own them, and also I have no clue _where_ this short fic came from!

BUTTERFLY SHOES

 _He had been looking for company for a night, but he found so  
_ _much more when he saw the girl with butterflies on her shoes.  
_ -oOo-

It was the butterfly shoes that drew him to her, they gave him an opener, a conversation starter. They were his only reason for targeting _her_ out of all the women in the bar that night, not because she was the prettiest one there, or because she had the hottest figure. It was all down to those butterfly shoes. They were pink. Pointed toes and kitten heels and, perched on the front of each, a sparkling lilac butterfly. She had been reluctant when he first approached and said _Hi_ ; turned out she was quite shy. So he said he liked her shoes, and she had smiled, happy that he had noticed them, not realising his attention had already moved on to her slim ankles. He'd had to work hard at the bar during that evening to win this one over. He wasn't used to it being that way. But, in the end, he had followed her into her apartment after driving her home and being invited in for coffee.

Once inside, she had kicked of her butterfly shoes and he had noticed how she curled her toes into the thick, soft carpet, enjoying it's texture. He had ended up staying the night, pretty much as he'd hoped. He had taken it slow, gentle, like _she_ was the shimmering butterfly. And she had responded with soft moans, small whimpers, whispering sighs and evocative, delicate strokes. She had touched him so tenderly, in ways that made him shiver, made him want more, took him deeper, and she had moved, stretched, curled, arched, all to accommodate his want, she had allowed him to truly feel, everything.

He remembered how the following morning, when normally he would leave, the sight of her sleeping made him stay, watching, wanting so much to touch, but not daring, scared to wake her, afraid he might see some sign of regret in her eyes at having spent the night with a man she barely knew.

He smiled himself when he remembered her drowsy smile, the one that appeared on her lips when she eventually opened her eyes and saw him there, and he saw her eyes were blue. He had carefully pulled her towards him, expecting her to resist. Instead her smile had grown and he had held her so close she almost became part of him, quietly falling back to sleep in his embrace. He had never forgotten that moment, that was when everything he thought he was, changed. That was when he first had the feeling that he never wanted to let go.

It was after midday when they showered together, he couldn't recall when he had last felt so relaxed, so at peace. When he found the six missed calls and three messages from his worried brother he had rung to say he was ok. His brother had wanted to know when he would be back, and he hadn't been able to form an answer. He had hesitated, gazed down at the floor, and seen her butterfly shoes lying there. His brother had listened to his silence, had understood, had known before he himself worked it out. He could still hear his brother's quietly spoken words, the sound of his concern, his bewilderment and his awe. _You're in love with her._

He'd called his brother a jerk and ended the call, afraid. They had spent all day together, not going anywhere except into each other and, by the return of night's dark, he had accepted the truth, his brother was right. She had listened while he told her in three words how he felt. Relief had come before his joy when she confessed that she felt the same for him. He remembered how in their happiness they danced together, and how when they danced, she had been naked, except for her butterfly shoes. When his brother met her for the first time, he had understood, and he shared their happiness. Her parents had welcomed him into their lives, happy he made their daughter happy.

When they met his brother, he was included too and fussed over by her mother. For him and his brother, Thanks Giving, Christmas, birthdays; they all became a family affair. Her father said to his brother more than once, he wished they had a second daughter. Her parents did try introducing her cousin to his brother. The two of them got along, dated for a short while, but she wanted someone who was always around, someone she could see every day. They had separated as friends.

His memories took him back to the day he had told her the truth. It was the hardest thing he'd had to do. He loved her, with every cell in his body, he loved her. He hadn't wanted to be the one who brought fear into her life, never wanted to be the reason she began to feel afraid of the dark. He had argued repeatedly with his brother, trying to convince himself as well as his brother that there was no reason for her to know. But there were nights, days, sometimes a week or more when he couldn't be with her and, even though she said nothing, accepted it, he always knew that she wondered why. In the end, he had held onto her while he told her who he really was. And she still loved him. More than that, she wasn't afraid, she trusted that he would always do his best to keep her safe, that had been enough for her. The only fear she showed was always for him.

There had been times, primarily when he was hurt and lying in a hospital bed, that she had sat with him and listened while he told her he was quitting, he was going to settle down, get a job, stay with her. She never held him to it. She understood. They had tried for a child. It tore him apart to remember her tears when they found out it wasn't possible. She would have been a wonderful mother.

Four years on and his feelings for her were as strong as ever, he still adored her, still loved her with that deep, abiding, forever kind of love. His brother was standing by him now, while they waited for her to be escorted down the aisle and the service to begin.

Afterwards, when he turned to her parents, her mother smiled at him through her tears, her father couldn't meet his eyes, and he himself walked away. He had a Hunt waiting for him. A red eyed daemon. And if it took him the rest of his life, he was determined that he would hunt the bastard down, and he would take his revenge.

Torn and brutalised though she was, the last thing he had done for her, was to make certain that she was cremated wearing her butterfly shoes.

 **FIN  
** Chick xx  
-oOo-


End file.
